


Two Hours

by knittyknicker



Series: KinkBingo 2012 [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, kinkbingo: teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 13:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knittyknicker/pseuds/knittyknicker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the Teasing square</p>
    </blockquote>





	Two Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Teasing square

Blaine hopes he’s not doing it on purpose. It’s hard enough trying to focus on the frankly dull movie they’d been roped in to seeing, but the flashes of movement out of the corner of his eye weren’t helping at all. Blaine felt like he was losing his mind. Every single time he looked over at Kurt, something had changed and all he wanted to do was stare and study him until he figured out what the differences were. 

Some were easy: The rolled up sleeves, showing off Kurt’s toned forearms, the loosened scarf revealing the popped button at the collar of his shirt. Those were bad enough, the slivers of skin making Blaine fidget and shift before he gave up, stuffing his hands under his thighs to keep himself from reaching over and dragging Kurt into his lap, Lima sensibilities be damned. 

Others were more subtle, and to Baine’s mind, far more devastating. The lack of an undershirt for instance had Blaine’s mind wandering down dangerous paths, pondering the likelihood that Kurt had skipped out on other foundation layers. The mental image of Kurt wrapped in nothing but the denim of his skinny jeans pulled a gasp from Blaine’s throat that earned him two dirty looks (Rachel and Quinn), three raised eyebrows (Puck, Santana, and Mercedes), and a concerned stare (Kurt).

Blaine slumped lower in his seat, digging his fingers into his thighs hard as he tried to focus on the movie and failed utterly, distracted by the flash of pale skin between the hem of Kurt’s jeans and the top of his ankle boots. He could feel his face burn and sent up thanks for the dark theatre, feeling like some sort of lecherous Victorian lord, getting hot and bothered over a flash of ankle. The touch of fingers to the skin of his upper arm had him jerking in his seat as Kurt leaned in to whisper, “Are you OK?”

Blaine forced his lips into a smile and whispered back, “Fine,” earning another concerned stare and a raised eyebrow for his trouble. As he watched his boyfriend settle, he thought he saw the edge of a smirk on his lips, but chalked it up to his obviously hormone pickled brain. He gave up on the movie all together and let himself stare as Kurt slouched back and dropped his hands to his thighs, elbows bent and rested on the armrests. For the life of him, Blaine couldn’t look away as Kurt’s hands slid higher and higher until his thumbs rested in the crease between torso and leg. 

That position proved to be the breaking point for Blaine and he stood, grabbing for Kurt’s hand and dragging his boyfriend up and out of the theatre towing him down the deserted halls and into the nearest men's room. Quickly scanning the stalls, Blaine pushed him toward the handicap stall at the end and pulled the door shut flipping the latch. Once that was done, he spun and crowded Kurt against the wall, capturing his lips in a kiss that conveyed all the frustrated arousal he’d managed to build up.

“Please tell me you were doing it on purpose, because if you weren’t I’ll never be able to go out in public with you again. The frustration might really kill me.”

“Blaine, That movie was terrible. I had hoped you would have caught on earlier and saved us both.”

“Evil, Kurt. Totally evil.”

And Blaine’s assumption about the lack of foundational garments? Turned out to be a pretty well founded assumption after all.


End file.
